Your Hatred is a Choice, My Feelings Are Not
by justasimplesketch
Summary: Written for Inception Kink Meme. Arthur's family isn't accepting of Eames or their relationship. Warning for homophobic themes.


**Your Hatred is a Choice; My Feelings Are Not**

_Prompt: __Arthur's family isn't accepting of Eames. I want family controversy. I want Eames feeling like he doesn't belong. I want Arthur telling him he does. I want Arthur _defending_ Eames to his family._

"Everyone will be excited to see you, Arthur. It feels like ages since you've spent a holiday at home." Mom gushes happily at my news. As my point man abilities grew and my personal relationship with Eames blossomed, I frequented home less and less.

"We'll be there tomorrow afternoon."

"_We'll?_" There is a sharpness to her tone.

"I am not coming without him, Mom. You can't expect me to spend the Christmas holidays without my boyfriend." I begin drawing doodles around the NY Times crossword I was working on.

"Alright, see you two tomorrow then. Have a safe trip, Arthur dear." We exchange our goodbyes before ending the phone call. I place my phone down on the coffee table and lean back into the couch. As I start dozing off, the couch cushions shift and a warm hand rests on my thigh. A smile graces my lips before my eyes open slightly.

"Hello there, Sleeping Beauty." We share a brief kiss before I wrap my arms around him, pulling him against me. "How did the phone call go?"

"Mmm, fine."

Eames glances up at me, giving me a skeptical look before kissing me again. He stands up and walks into our bedroom. The light flicks on and I hear the dresser drawers opening and the unzipping of his suitcase. While I have been packed since Wednesday morning, Eames has put it off. Getting up, I stretch before walking over to the bedroom.

Standing in the doorway, I observe Eames hastily packing some of the most muted things he owns. Dull colors, pattern-less ties, things he normally doesn't wear. "Did you hit your head while shopping this afternoon? Those are not you."

"Remember the last visit with your family? Not only did your brothers have an issue with my clothing, but I had to hear about how you were dating an eccentric and snobbish _man_."

Frowning deeply, I wrap my arms around him from behind and place a gentle kiss to his shoulder. "You were ill and I told them that. Getting sick shortly before Christmas is enough to make anyone less than cheerful and keep to themselves. That doesn't make you a snob. If you're just yourself, my family will love you."

Eames pulls away from my embrace before continuing to pack. "I don't belong there, Arthur. Your father and brothers look down on me. Your mother sneers at me. Even your sister grew cold toward me and she had most promise."

I grab the article of clothing out of Eames's hands and place it on the bed. Sitting down on the bed, I pull him down beside me. "Listen to me, my family has never been fond of my erratic lifestyle. They don't like my lack of specificity about my work. They hate that I can't drop everything and run home for the littlest things. Yes, my time at home diminished once we became a couple, but we also have been doing a lot more jobs. Might they believe I come home less because of you? Possibly. But they don't understand the intricacies of dream extraction and how time consuming it is. This visit, they'll see how amazing you are and they'll forget their prior grudges. But honestly, dear, I doubt they have too many of those anyway. They don't know you well enough to." I peck his cheek before standing up and pulling his clothing out of the suitcase. "Start over. I'll be in the living room for when you're done."

Twenty minutes later, Eames joins me on the couch and we watch some ridiculous holiday movie.

"Like that ever happens in the real world?" Eames scoffs at the completion of the movie.

I laugh at him, "You're the one who selected this movie."

"It sounded more promising in the description." He shrugs before glancing at the wall clock. "In twelve hours, we'll be on an airplane. _How thrilling_."

"Everything will be fine. And if not, I'll make it up to you for New Year's. We'll do something unsavory and very Eames-like." He smirks at this and I shake my head. "Hmm, I think I'm headed to bed before I make any other outrageous promises. Will you be joining me?"

"In a bit." I kiss him before heading to the bedroom. Our bed always seems too big and lonely without Eames. Especially when something is bothering him. The covers envelope me as my eyes drift closed. My body soon finds sleep.

The next morning, I scramble around the apartment, making sure I collect every last minute thing. Eames makes the morning more stressful by acting incredibly subdued. We take a cab to the airport. The lines are long to go through security and filled with obnoxious people. An hour into waiting, I squeeze Eames's hand, only to hear a disgusted whisper.

"Look at those two fags. Unnatural, I tell you." The couple is standing near us, and I glare at them. "What're you looking at fag?"

"An unfortunate consequence of evolution. Or perhaps, a mistake in survival of the fittest." I turn around and follow Eames as we hand over our IDs briefly and then place our carry-ons onto the belt. We remove our shoes and jackets before waiting to go through the metal detectors.

"You know, he probably didn't understand what you meant. I have a better parting for him. A permanent one from Earth." Eames is positively seething. Normally, he'll agitate verbal attackers with a long, sensuous kiss between the two of us. But his mood's making him dangerous.

I shake my head before stepping through the metal detectors and grabbing my carry-on and personal belongings. "How will that solve anything?"

He doesn't answer, just slips his shoes back on and heads to our gate. I sigh deeply before following after him, feeling the holidays are going to be hell because Eames is exceedingly miserable. He sits by the window, saving an empty seat beside him for me.

"I know you're not happy about this, but they are my family. And so are you. Just, try for my sake? _Please_? If they are anything but pleasant, we'll leave."

"Alright."

We remain silent; Eames plays games on his phone and I work through sudoku puzzles while we wait to board our plane. Once we get called to board, I realize how many other people will be flying with us. I wanted to fly first class because we can and I am not fond of being contained so closely with so many other people. But unfortunately, that was not an option. I did, however, purchase the third seat in our row to avoid a person being directly next to us.

The plane takes off and Eames begins to loosen up significantly due to the cocktail he has ordered. He starts whispering dirty things into my ear, and I stifle the moans threatening to spill out of my mouth. He smirks delightedly at my reaction, before leaning back in his seat. _Dirty, rotten tease!_ We land in Chicago a couple hours later. By then, Eames has sobered, but still seems relaxed. We exit the plane with our carry-ons and wait for our suitcases. Once we have all of our possessions, we head over to the car rental area and pick up our rental.

We walk up to a Ford Focus. "Did you really need to pick such a sissy car?"

I give him a dirty look, "There wasn't much to choose from by the time you allowed me to book the trip. So, shut your trap." I get into the driver's seat, while Eames puts our luggage into the car. After I spend three minutes bitching at him about wearing his seat belt, we head off to the family home.

It amazes me how after all these years, things haven't changed much in my parents' neighborhood. The houses and people seem the same. It all feels familiar. I can still point to all of the locations where certain milestones in my life took place. My first kiss with a girl happened behind a boulder at the park we pass. My first kiss with a boy happened behind the high school two blocks from my parents' house after homecoming. My first broken bone happened at the corner of our street. Coming back here traps me inside of memories, not always a good thing. Pulling into the driveway, I see the wild activity inside the house. Mom scurrying around from the living room to the kitchen, my nieces and nephew playing with my dad. My brothers picking on my little sister. The living room is jam-packed with people and the thought makes my skin crawl slightly. Sure, they're my family, but more often than not, it's usually just Eames and me. That's unless we are on a job, but I am usually mentally prepared for that.

"Ready?" I turn to face Eames, who nods. We decide to leave the luggage in the car for the time being. Walking to the door, the door opens before we start up the steps. Julia, my sister, opens the door and launches herself at me.

"Arthur! I've missed you!" She squeezes me tightly before kissing my cheek. She smiles politely toward Eames before heading into the house, dragging me in. My family takes turns hugging me and saying hello to Eames before going back to their chaos. I slump onto the couch before pulling Eames down beside me.

"How's that career of yours going, Arthur?" James, my eldest brother asks. He looks like an older version of me, starting to gray a bit.

I shrug, "Busy." He scowls at me, before going back to watching a hockey game.

My other brother, Tim, joins in where James left off, "When are you going to drop this secrecy, Arty?" My eyes narrow at the horrid nickname. "You don't come home for years and expect everyone to buy the same old excuses?"

I can feel Eames tensing beside me. I run interference quickly, "Yes, that's what I expect. That's how things have always been. And it's Christmas. Can't you avoid the conflict for now?"

"No. You can spend all your time with _him_, but you can't come home."

My mother comes into the living room, "Timothy, stop it. This is going to be a nice, _family_ time." It may be paranoia, but I swear she's staring at Eames distastefully when she stresses family.

"Well, the kids and us girls are going ice-skating." My sister announces, standing up. The three kids and the four women (my mother, my sister, and two sister-in-laws) head out after a scramble for warm clothing. The house feels calmer after seven people leave. Beyond the living room, the house is spacious with its five bedrooms, which will accommodate all. It's just... everyone hovers around the living room. Makes sense, families crave closeness and mine is no exception, unfortunately. I turn to Eames, who hasn't said a word since the hellos ended.

"Let's go get the luggage, dear." The two of us stand and head out.

Once we reach the car, he breaks his silence, "This is bloody ridiculous, Arthur. No one has acknowledged me beyond greeting. They keep sending me the dirtiest of glances, including your mother. I should've just stayed back home. Then they could live in their imaginary world where you aren't really gay."

"You need to try harder, Eames. Sitting around, not saying a word isn't going to get you anywhere." Opening the trunk, Eames grabs majority of the luggage. Planting a kiss on his nose, I murmur, "I love you, you know that, right?"

He rolls his eyes dramatically, "Had _no_ idea, darling. Is that why I put up with such frigidness?" He puts down the luggage and wraps his arms around me, placing his hot mouth over mine. A small whimper of want escapes my lips as I practically come undone in my parents' driveway. "Later, pet." We grab the luggage and head toward the door.

"Must they do that? What if the children had been here? I hardly want my two girls thinking that's _normal_." The screen door is still partially open, which allows my brother's hateful words to smack me directly in the face.

"Ever since that fucking Brit came around, Arthur's changed. He was never interested in men before." Tim adds in. Oh, little did my family know about the quiet, intelligent one.

"Your mother should've told him to not come if he felt the need to bring _it_ with him." That's the final straw. I turn around and go back to the car. Throwing the luggage back inside, I walk calmly back to the house while my insides rage in fury.

Throwing the screen door open, I step inside, Eames not far behind me. "Alright, I know you're not stupid enough to think it takes more than a few seconds to walk from the driveway to the door. Naturally, you wanted me to hear your negative bullshit." I get in my eldest brother's face. "First of all, James, love is natural, even when it's two men in the relationship." I turn to Tim, "Second of all, Tim, I had my first gay kiss with the captain of the football team in high school. So _that fucking Brit_ didn't change me in that respect." Finally, I look at my father, who is seated in his leather recliner, the same one he had when I was a kid, "And really, Dad? What happened to all of those lies you fed me as a child? You'll love me unconditionally, huh? I love him. Yes, that probably confuses your miniscule brains-"

My father stands up, looking me square in the eye and yells in my face, "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy."

"If you haven't noticed, I haven't been a little boy who cowers at the sound of your voice for a long time now, Dad. I've defended this family, saying you're really loving and not at all homophobic. I've been lying to everyone, but mostly to myself. I'm not going to stop loving who I love because my family looks down on him. He's one of the best people I've ever known. He makes me fee-"

"You don't have to defend me to them, Arthur." Eames cuts me off, his tone brisk.

"Not like it's going to change anyone's mind." James mutters out, glaring at Eames.

"If you can't accept this relationship and Eames, then you can't accept me. I know you're pining for a day where I wake up and discover being with a man disgusts me, but that's not going to happen. _Ever_. Tell Mom I'm sorry my presence put such a kink in the plans. No one has to worry about that anymore. I'm never coming back." I turn on my heel and storm out the door, not waiting to see if Eames is following me or not.

I get into the car and slam the door shut. Eames opens the passenger door and closes it easily. Starting up the car, I pull maniacally out of the driveway, almost losing control due to the snow. I pull over once we are on the next block. I'm in no condition to drive. My emotions are too erratic and I hardly want to kill us. Once we exchange seats, I slump into the passenger seat and my internal frustration mounts to epic proportions. From the corner of my eye, I see Eames pulling the GPS out of his coat pocket and plugging in an address.

We wind up in front of a nice hotel. The valet takes care of our car and the bellhop takes our luggage.

When he realizes I am giving him a perplexed look, he gives me a sheepish one in return. "No matter how adamant you were about your family, I knew we needed a back-up plan. For your sake, I had hoped your family wasn't going to act as they did. But I have dealt with too many people and forged too many individuals to give people the benefit of the doubt." He gets the keys to our room and the bellhop follows us onto the elevator. Once we reach our room, I tip the man and we go inside, taking our luggage with us.

The room is nice with a separate living area, a king-sized bed, and a hot tub in the bathroom. But my disappointment in my family takes priority.

Eames walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "I hope you're not angry with me for booking the room."

Defeatedly, I whisper, "Not at all." Taking a deep breath, I continue, "I'm sorry I put you through that. I guess I just hoped my family could be happy for me. For us. You really are a lovely person."

He chuckles, kissing the back of my neck, "You don't need to convince me of that. I know it. And you don't need to apologize. You tried admirably to get your family to accept our relationship. I just know when I am not wanted, Arthur. It isn't my place to make your decision about whether you continue to keep in touch. I know you need to make the final decision. And honestly, I was hoping the two years in between visits would have made them wiser, or at least, cherish their time with you. Just know that you needn't cut them from your life. If you want to see them, I am content staying behind."

I scoff, "No. As I told my dad and brothers, if what we have isn't acceptable or if you aren't acceptable, then I'm not either. Why bother with people who can't be happy for you and accept your life decisions? It's not like I am sleeping around promiscuously and shooting heroin into my veins. I've settled down with the person I love. Who fucking cares if you happen to be a man? There's nothing wrong with that." Untangling myself from his arms, I kick off my shoes and head to the couch. Eames follows suit and sits down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Their loss, love." Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. It's my sister's cell phone number. "You should answer it."

Against my better judgment, I answer the phone. "Yes?"

"Dad told us what happened. I want to talk to you. Meet me at your favorite coffee shop alone, please."

"Fine. Be there soon." Explaining the situation to Eames, I grab my jacket and head out. Retrieving the car from the valet, I drive to the coffee shop.

Meeting my sister in a coffee shop amuses me. Remembering the days when she thought coffee was the vilest substance almost brings a smile to my face. She is seated in the corner, sipping what seems to be a cappuccino. Ordering a dark roast, I move over to the corner and sink into the plush chair beside hers.

"Surprised you came."

I shrug nonchalantly, "You asked nicely."

She avoids making eye contact with me, staring down into her coffee mug, "You really hurt Mom and Dad, Arthur. You're putting some random person above our family." Julia looks up, her eyes sorrowful. Someone must have taken acting classes after I moved out.

Just from her theatrics and three sentences, I can already tell meeting my little sister for coffee was a horrible idea. "Are Kim and Jenny just random people James and Tim put above our family? No, they aren't. They're their wives. It's no different with the case of me and mine. He is my boyfriend, my partner, the person who I'm spending the rest of my life with."

"But they actually come around. Do you really expect everyone to be able to deal with your homosexuality when you only come home once every two years?"

Resisting the urge to shout at her, I reply bitingly, "Yes."

She crosses her arms across her chest, leaning back into the plush chair. "Well, that's selfish. You can't expect someone to simply get used to you being gay overnight."

My fist tightens around my coffee cup, "How am I being selfish by expecting people to love me regardless of my sexuality? I'm being mistreated here, but I'm the selfish one. Instead of assuming I liked women, maybe people shouldn't have had those expectations. Perhaps that's not how society functions _yet_, but this is my family. The people who are supposed to love me unconditionally. I'm sure I would get more respect as a serial killer because that's _manly_."

Her brow crinkles, "So, other people's feelings don't matter in this?"

"Not when they're saying I should change who I am. Maybe you don't believe this, but I can't control my attraction for Eames. He's the best individual I have ever met. Sure, he's flawed, but I love his every flaw because they make him unique. I fought my attraction to him for far too many years before finally succumbing. And honestly, it was the best decision I ever made." A brief smile passes my lips as I think about the day I finally agreed to go to dinner with Eames. The rest is history.

"Even if it means never seeing the family?"

My eyes glance toward the door. I wish I hadn't come. "Everyone has this absurd notion Eames is the reason I never come home. My work's been more tedious and frankly, busier. Is it so wrong that after months and months of constant work, I'd rather collapse on my couch in the arms of my lover than hop an airplane to Chicago? Especially when my family seems to have a problem with my life choices. Even without Eames being in the picture, I wasn't spending much time at home. Maybe two holidays a year? Even then, there was the issue that I never came home. My life has taken me on a different path and that's just how it is. Instead of being extremely rude to me every time I come home, how about treating me with respect? Perhaps then I'll be willing to actually come home. But only if, Eames isn't treated like he's the scum of the Earth."

"I can't promise anything."

I stand up, grabbing my jacket. "Then forget it. We've shared our side of things. If everyone is too ignorant for this, then we say our goodbyes now and we go in different directions."

She stands as well, glaring at me, "Why do you think this should be so easy for us? You were my best friend growing up, Arthur. And you came with an image. You were brave and fearless and strong an-"

I glower at her, spitting out, "Being gay changes that? I'm suddenly inferior and weak? You are un-fucking-believable, Jules. I'm still all I was. _I am the same person_." Walking toward the door, I hear her heels clicking behind me.

"But you're not. You lie to everyone, you hide things, and you don't care about the family. That's not the Arthur I idolized."

Swiftly turning, my eyes meet hers, "I don't lie. My job requires secrecy; I told everyone up front about that. And _the family_ doesn't seem to care much about me, so, it's mutual hatred."

"So, this is it?"

Nodding curtly, I turn to face the door once more. Striding toward it, I don't look back as I exit and head off to my car through the snow. I'm not a crier, never have been. But I cannot help myself as salty tears bite at my eyes as I quicken my pace. Getting into the car, I shove the key into the ignition and start it, but don't move it. The weather gradually gets worse, but finding the motivation to drive back to the hotel is too much. For some reason, saying goodbye is more difficult than I imagined. The bitter taste of betrayal fills my mouth; whose betrayal hurts me more, mine or theirs, I'm not sure.

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I text a message to Eames, telling him where I am. Forty minutes later, he knocks on the window, breaking me out of my miserable reverie.

I climb from the driver's seat into the passenger seat. He opens the door and slides inside. "We're going home tomorrow." He says quietly as he starts driving back to the hotel. "As soon as I received your text, I made the call. Saito was more than happy to help."

I nod, "Good."

"You okay?"

"No. I will be, but not right now. I was blind over this situation. My family life was never spectacular. Dad yelled all the time and hit us occasionally. He wanted perfect little soldiers like he had in the military. Mom drank a lot. There were far too many times as a child I found my mother passed out in her own vomit. My brothers always picked on me. My little sister was annoying with her idolization of me. Maybe all the years from home made the memories less clear. Maybe all of my constant dreaming and manipulation of their characters created a happier family. I'm not sure. But after today, I realize the perfect family I created in my mind never existed. I never had a family where I could be myself. I'm sorry warped memories dragged you into this nightmare. But, don't worry; we won't be coming back ever again. I can't remain in the company of people who hate me for what I am."

He reaches over and squeezes my knee. He remains silent for a few moments before speaking, "So, I was thinking nude resort for New Year's. Or perhaps Vegas? Or maybe just nonstop sex in our apartment? I can't really imagine anything sexier than you screaming my name out to bring in the New Year." I snort out a laugh, being completely caught off guard. "Oh, I assure you, darling, you won't be laughing when I get done with you."

I lean back into the seat, smiling, "I'm sure I won't, Mr. Eames, I'm sure I won't."


End file.
